


Hoodwinked

by Theoroark



Series: Dark Room [12]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 11:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14872902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Widowmaker's favorite sweater has gone missing, and someone will pay.





	Hoodwinked

The banging on Gabriel’s door was so urgent he almost fell apart trying to get to it, assuming that there was some emergency. He threw it open and stopped in his tracks when, instead of someone desperate or bloodied or fearful, he was facing a moody looking Widowmaker.

“Uh,” he said, straightening up and resoldifying. “Can I help you?”

“Where is my sweater?” Widow snapped. Gabriel blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“My Missoni hooded sweater,” Widow said, pushing past him into the apartment. “I was just looking for it and I could not find it anywhere. Last Halloween, you asked me if you could have it, to make your Journey costume. I said no, of course.” She dramatically pivoted as she paced his living room. “Halloween is approaching. Only Council members have access to my quarters. Akande would not want it because he is too fashionable, and Moira would not want it because she is not fashionable enough. You–” She spun and pointed at him,” –are the only one with both means and motive. You stole my sweater.”

Gabriel waited until he was sure she was done. “Widow, I didn’t take your hoodie.”

“Hooded sweater!” she hissed. He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. I didn’t take it. You probably just lost it.”

“I could not have possibly lost it in the closet you people gave me as a living quarters. I kept it with the rest of my autumnal wardrobe, which I only opened today, since today was the first chilly day of the year. And it was gone! Look at what I had to wear instead!” Gabriel looked at her black cashmere turtleneck and gave what he hoped was a sufficiently sympathetic look. It evidently wasn’t, because her eyes narrowed and darted around the room. “Did you already use it for your costume? Is that why you won’t give it back? Is she already dissected?”

“Widow. Enough.” Gabriel gently, but firmly, began guiding her out the door. “I didn’t take your sweater, and I am your commanding officer. I don't need to humor this any more than I already have.”

“I know you have my sweater,” Widow said, as he lightly shoved her into the hall. “I always hit my–” Gabriel shut the door in her face.

Widow was not a person one crossed lightly, so Gabriel was on edge for the rest of the day, jumping at every noise outside his office door. But she did not stop by, and so he began to think that maybe she had found the garment, or realized her mistake. Until he got home, and found his living quarters completely ransacked, every nook and cranny overturned in an attempt to find the knitwear.

This is the kind of influence Sombra had had on her, Gabriel thought irritably as he surveyed the mess. But then again, Sombra had been away on assignment for the past month. Also his access code was "1234," and so he imagined it hadn't taken much for Widow to get in. He had just assumed no one would be stupid enough to try to break into his quarters.

(Of course, Widow should also have assumed he wouldn't be stupid enough to try to break into her quarters, but here they were.)

As he was cleaning, his holovid dinged, informing him of an impromptu council meeting the next morning. He did not think much of it– partially because it wasn't an unusual occurrence, partially because he was focused on just how petty Widow was, dumping out his silverware drawer. When he got to the meeting room, however, Akande was the only other person there, seated at the head of the long oval table.

"Gabriel," Akande said, gesturing to the other end of the table. "Please." Gabriel sat, uncertain and unsure as to why he wouldn't just sit next to Akande, so they wouldn't have to yell at each other across the room. Akande didn't seem bothered though, and steepled his fingers. "It's come to my attention that you have... not always been acting with Talon's best interests in mind."

Gabriel's stomach dropped. Had Akande bought Sombra out, learned of the peaceful surveillance she was doing on McCree, had one of the troopers seen him run from Ana when he could have killed her at Anubis, he had tried to be so careful, tried to cover his tracks, and yet–

"To remain functional, the high level operatives Talon procures must maintain a certain level of trust in their leadership," Akande continued. "And if someone on the Council is known to disrespect personal property–"

Gabriel slouched in his seat. "Akande."

"If you refuse to rectify the situation, I am concerned that morale could hit an all time low–"

"Akande, you're better than this."

"Our wine and cheese night is the best part of my week, Gabriel," Akande hissed, his eyes darting. "And I will not let you take that from me."

Gabriel stood. "Right. We're done here. Tell her I didn't take her hoodie. Again."

"If you confess, I can try to get you an invite to our book club!" Akande yelled at his retreating back.

Widow must have suspected the meeting would not bear fruit, because she was prepared when he returned to his room. She was perched on a kitchen stool, a flaming trash bin in front of her and his favorite hoodie dangling above it in her pinched fingers.

“Good morning, Reyes,” she said. She gave the hoodie a light shake. “Are you prepared to talk?”

Gabriel ran a hand over his face. “This is taking things entirely too far, Widow.”

“The power to stop it is entirely in your hands.” She looked the sweatshirt up and down. “This is from some brand called ‘Pacsun.’ Are those even still around? It seems to me, this is irreplaceable.”

“Widow, enough.”

“I agree. Give me back my sweater, and no one needs to get hurt.”

“For the last time, I don’t have your hoodie”

“Hooded sweater!” Widow began to lower his hoodie– his favorite hoodie, the one his sister had given him, that baby Fareeha had chewed the strings on, that he had patched countless times– into the fire. Almost without thinking, Gabriel descended to wraith form, and rematerialized to knock her off her stool.

“What the hell, Reyes!”

“I don’t have your damn hoodie! Give it back!”

“Hooded sweater! And yes you do!” She kicked him in the gut and he wheezed and fell back, but grabbed her shins when she made for the fire again. “Give mine back!”

“Widow, I swear to God–”

“Uh. What’s going on here?”

Gabriel and Widow both froze, and turned in unison towards the front door. Sombra was standing there, looking puzzled and quite comfortable in her oversized hooded sweater.

“Akande wouldn’t tell me what you were doing at Gabe’s place, Spider,” Sombra said. The sleeves dangled off her hands and she spun them as she cautiously walked towards the two. “But I figured it was something boring, like work or a mission or whatever. Nothing more important than welcoming your girlfriend home after a month. But, uh…”

Gabriel let go of Widow’s leg and dropped his head back against the cabinets. Widow took a step forward.

“You have my sweater,” she said.

“Oh. Yeah.” Sombra drew her arms further into her sleeves as she looked down at the garment. “Well, the mission was in Reykjavik, and you know, you ‘don’t even feel the cold’ and all, and, well…” She looked up at Widow shyly. “I wanted something to remember you by.”

“Oh,” Widow said. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Gabriel whispered to the ceiling. Sombra glanced back at him, but Widow took another step forward and put a hand on her waist, drawing her attention back.

“It looks good on you,” Widow said. “Do you want to keep it?”

“Thanks, but I’m going to give it back.” Sombra leaned up and kissed her and Widow, who should have been devoid of emotion and possessed inhumanly low circulation, blushed. “It’s a cute hoodie, but it doesn’t really smell like you anymore. And that was my favorite part.”

“Okay,” Widow said, at the same time as Gabriel said, “You can’t be serious.” Both of them looked at him, concealing their impatience with varying levels of effort.

“Hey, so, uh, Gabe,” Sombra said, deeply unconvincing in her attempt at nonchalance. “This is the first time I’ve seen my girlfriend in a month, so, like…”

“ _I live here_.”

“Oh. Right.” Widow lost patience and began to tug Sombra out the door. “Good seeing you, Gabe!” Sombra yelled over her shoulder. “You should probably put out that fire!”

**Author's Note:**

> Btw kid Fareeha's standard form of greeting Gabe was to pull his hoodie strings tight around his face and rat knot them. 
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on tumblr if you want to talk to me there. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos would mean the world to me!


End file.
